It Was All Yellow
by Emmeebee
Summary: The Sphinx was tucked into the corner of the square. Light shone through the windows, casting a warm glow onto the rain-soaked street and making the rivulets of water that clung to the glass sparkle. As Susan grew nearer, she could hear the familiar sound of old music and laughter.


A/N: Written by Chaser 1 of Montrose Magpies for QLFC Round 11.

CHASER 1: Write about winning someone/thing on a rainy night(s).

Prompts: (colour) yellow; (word) muffle; (song) This Is Why I Need You - Jesse Ruben

Word count: 2994 on Google Docs

* * *

 _January 2002_

The Sphinx was tucked into the corner of the square. Light shone through the windows, casting a warm glow onto the rain-soaked street and making the rivulets of water that clung to the glass sparkle. As Susan grew nearer, she could hear the familiar sound of old music and laughter.

"Is that it?" Theo asked, his voice hesitant.

Susan glanced over her shoulder at him before following his gaze back to the Sphinx. She knew what he was seeing. While the other shops on the street sported sleek, flashy trimmings, the pub's frontage was dull and unassuming. It would look low-key but well-maintained on any other street, but on this one, a newcomer was sure to see it as shabby and downtrodden.

But that was what Susan loved about it. The Sphinx didn't put on any pretences, covering its flaws with a new coat of paint or regular remodelling. It didn't try to keep up with the shops around it, equating fitting in with surviving. Instead, the owners focused on providing good food and service, letting that speak for itself.

Susan thought the world would be a better place if everyone and everything could be like that.

"It has the best chips in the country," she assured him. "Trust me."

"If you say so."

She shook her head and, refusing to let his scepticism bother her, strode straight into the pub, only reversing the Rain Repellent Charm when they were safely inside. Honestly, when she had invited him out for after-work drinks, she hadn't expected him to say yes—especially once they realised that Beth, the other lawyer at their firm, was unable to attend. But it was his first week at the job, and she felt obligated to at least try to welcome him.

In any case, Susan couldn't bring herself to regret the decision now. Every time she crossed the threshold, it was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. She had heard Justin talking about things called 'happy places'—well, this was hers. As she wove her way through the full tables, waving and nodding greetings to several friends and acquaintances, she felt a sense of contentment settle within her.

By the time they had ordered fish and chips and a round of drinks and sat down at an empty table, however, it had been replaced by the muted, exhausted feeling that had been plaguing her for the last few months. These days, not even the Sphinx could cheer her up permanently.

Her mouth twisted up into a smile that was a little too bright and a little too forced. "So how did you find your first week?"

Theo hesitated, his eyebrows drawing together. "It was hectic," he said. "It felt like every time I was getting a hang of one thing, there was something else to wrap my head around. But I'm sure I'll get used to it eventually."

"Good luck with that. I've been here for three years, and I'm _still_ not used to it."

"Then why do you stay?"

For a moment, her smile softened into something that was almost genuine. "Because that's the best part. I like having a job that keeps me on my toes."

He tilted his head, his pale eyes glinting with amusement. "I thought you'd say the best part was helping people get justice."

Susan shrugged. "That part's good, too, I guess," she said, deadpan.

"Isn't that why you got into it?" he asked. "To help people?"

"It was my aunt," she admitted. "Ever since I was a little girl, she would tell me stories about the cases she was working on—nothing confidential, of course. There were a few times when I considered doing something else, but I always came back around to law."

"Ah." Theo's eyes flicked down to his glass before focusing on her once more. "I was sorry to hear about her death. My mother met her a number of times over the years, and while they were usually on different sides of the law, she had nothing but good things to say about her."

"Thank you; I appreciate that," Susan said, slipping back into the script and tone of voice she had perfected over the last few years. Amelia Bones, as it turned out, had known what felt like thousands of people over the course of her career. While Susan liked knowing that her aunt had made such an impact on other people's lives, she hated having to relive her loss every time one of the woman's acquaintances saw her in the street.

Theo's expression turned contrite. "But that probably isn't what you want to spend your Friday night discussing, is it?" His gaze wandered off to the side for a moment, then he looked back at her. His mouth opened and closed, and when it opened again, he asked, "Is there a reason the office is so yellow?"

Her eyebrows shot up as she let out a startled laugh. "Seriously? _That's_ your question?"

"I've been wondering about it all day," he said, looking sheepish. "And I couldn't think of anything else, so I panicked."

"It's my favourite colour," she explained. "We had to remodel after the flood last year, so Beth and I decided to just run with it."

He leant in conspiratorially. "Is it because of the Hufflepuff thing?"

"You're not going to believe me, but no, it isn't. It was my favourite colour long before Hogwarts. It just… It makes me happy. Actually, the House thing made it worse since I was always worried it would make me look clichéd." She rolled her eyes. "You probably don't believe me."

"No, I do. If anything, I had the opposite problem."

"You can't _not_ tell me what yours is after that."

"It's red," Theo said. "What can I say? I like how bold it is. But I used to pretend it was green because I was terrified of starting a riot."

Susan couldn't help but grin at how _normal_ he sounded. Given the political climate while they were at school, she hadn't spent much time with her Slytherin classmates. While she had known that they were more than the façades they wore, it was strange to see him letting his walls down. It was hard not to feel charmed by it. "Wow, you're right. That's actually almost worse."

To her surprise, the next few hours seemed to fly by. Lately, it had felt like no matter what she did, she was on edge, her mind constantly reminding her of everything she had done or said incorrectly. Even though she knew it was all a lie, it felt as real as the chair she was sitting on. But for the first time in a long time, her mind was quiet. There was still that underlying sense of flatness, but the conversation was moving so quickly and was so engaging that she didn't have time to let it overtake her.

-x-

 _December 2002_

Susan sighed as she entered the office on her way back from a meeting with a client she was representing in a robbery case. The discussion hadn't gone as planned—the client had mentioned some key information that he hadn't seen fit to bring up in _any_ of their earlier consultations—and she was going to have to rethink her whole approach to the trial.

She was barely two steps into the room when she froze, her eyes wide. Garlands of holly and mistletoe lined the windowsills, interwoven with red baubles and sheer gold fabric, and a large tree stood in the corner of the room, twinkling with all the colours of the rainbow. She had known that Theo was planning to use his lunch hour to decorate, but she had assumed he would do something _small_.

"Wow," she said, walking over to his desk. "This looks amazing; you did a great job."

"You don't think it's overdone?"

"Perhaps a little, but Beth won't mind, and I think it looks perfect."

"Do you have a minute?" he asked, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

It was just past five in the afternoon, so it was time for them to head out anyway. "Of course."

"I have something for you." He pulled a present out of his desk drawer and held it out to her. "Merry Christmas."

She frowned. "Christmas is still two weeks away."

"I know, but you've been so stressed out lately that I wanted you to have it early." Concern lurked behind his gaze as his eyes found hers. It looked as if he was trying to hide it, but she knew him well enough by now to see through his pretences. Sometimes, she thought he noticed too much; he always seemed to have the ability to tell when she was getting lost in her own head and to pull her back out of it again.

"I haven't even wrapped your present yet," she said, her mind drifting to the tajine that was sitting in her bedroom at home. Ernie, who was holidaying in Morocco, had described the earthenware pots in one of his letters, and Susan had immediately thought of Theo. He loved exploring different types of food, and she knew he would enjoy learning how to cook with it.

He waved away her words. "Don't worry about it."

Susan took the gift and carefully unwrapped it, not wanting to rip the paper when it was so festive and pretty. It would make the perfect border for the next page of the scrapbook her psychologist had recommended that she start as a way to muffle the negative thoughts and remind herself of the positives in her life.

Setting the wrapping paper aside, she opened the jewellery box that had been inside. A bright yellow stone pendant lay on black felt, attached to a silver chain. It was simple and understated and perfect. "It's beautiful," she said, a smile spreading across her face as she pulled it out of the box. "I love it."

"You said that yellow makes you happy." Theo stood up and gestured for her to hand him the necklace. She did, and he looped the chain around her neck. His warm fingers brushed against her skin as he secured the clasp, and her eyes fluttered closed as her breath caught in her throat.

Almost of its own accord, her hand drifted up to trace the yellow stone. It touched her that his reasoning wasn't, "Yellow's your favourite colour," or, "It looked pretty," or even, "I thought you would like it." He had chosen something that he thought would make her happy, and even though she had never confided in him about her mental illness, he had noticed that she was feeling down—or 'stressed', as he had diplomatically put it—and decided to give it to her early.

"It does," she said, turning around to face him. "Thank you so much; I really do love it."

His lips curved up into a broad grin, and his eyes were so warm that it looked like even they were smiling at her. "Do you want to go out to dinner sometime?"

Susan frowned, not sure what to make of his words. They had eaten out together plenty of times since he joined the firm, either to celebrate closing a case or simply to spend time together. But the tenderness in his voice made her feel that this was different somehow—like he wasn't asking as a friend.

She hesitated. It was so tempting to say yes. Over the course of the last eleven and a half months, she had grown to care for him deeply. While she wasn't ready to put words to the feeling, it was impossible to deny how much she enjoyed his company.

But it wasn't as simple as that.

She settled for something that was the truth, even if it wasn't the whole truth. "I'm sorry; I can't. Between work and helping Hannah plan her wedding, I'm going to be swamped for the next few months."

His expression fell, and she could tell that he had realised what she was really saying. But instead of making things awkward, he nodded and said, "Alright. If that ever changes, let me know. You'll still be at the staff Christmas party, right?"

And she loved him for that. "You mean the thing that management keeps insisting is optional, even though it's widely assumed that anyone who doesn't attend isn't a team player? Yeah, I'll be there."

He laughed and reached over to pick up his coat. "I'm dropping in on Dad tonight, so I should get going, but I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you then," Susan said cheerfully. But as he left, she couldn't help but regret her answer. She wished she could tell him everything—it had been on the tip of her tongue so many times—but mental illnesses weren't handled well in the wizarding world. She had already lost a few friends over it, and while Justin and Ernie hadn't left her, they were nowhere near as close as they used to be. It was at the point where the only people she ever openly acknowledged it to, other than her psychologist, were her parents and Hannah. Something told her that she could trust Theo to stay, but she couldn't risk being hurt like that again.

-x-

 _March 2003_

It was so dark outside that Susan couldn't see the rain, but she could hear it as it drummed down on the roof overhead in a steady but peaceful rhythm. She was curled up in an armchair with a novel, a warm blanket, and a mug of hot chocolate. Her eyelids felt heavy, but she was determined to finish the chapter before she went to bed.

A knock on the front door tore her attention from the book. Setting her things aside, she reached for her wand—a wartime habit that she would probably never break—and cautiously made her way towards the door. Her parents never dropped by unannounced, and Hannah and Neville were on their honeymoon, so she was at a loss for who it could be. Closing one eye, she peered through the peephole, her grip tightening on her wand.

She sighed when she saw Theo's familiar face. It wasn't that she didn't want to see him; his presence still never failed to make her day. It was just that it was all so complicated now. True to his word, the wizard hadn't hinted at anything romantic since December, leaving the ball securely in her court. The problem was that what she _wanted_ to do with it and what the rules said she _could_ do with it were two entirely different things.

She opened the door. Theo was drenched; his hair was plastered to the side of his head, and his clothes were heavy with the weight of the water. "Hello."

"Sorry for dropping by so late, but you left this at my house." He held out the notepad they had used that morning to brainstorm defences for a case they were working on together—fortunately, it was still dry, presumably due to all of the protection charms she had layered it with. "I thought it would be best for you to have it back sooner rather than later."

"Thanks!" she said, feeling slightly sheepish as she took it from him. She must have left it there in her hurry to get home. "Do you want to come in and get dry? Some of my neighbours are Muggles, so it's best not to do _you-know-what_ outside."

"That would be great," he said, following her in. "By the time the rain picked up, I was close enough that it made more sense to focus on getting here quickly than to waste time trying to find my wand."

"Yeah." She secured the door behind them before turning back to him and casting a Drying Charm, moving her wand around his body so it could reach all of the remaining water.

"Susan," Theo said, "I promised myself that I wouldn't pressure you, but I have to ask—are we okay? You've been acting differently, and I would hate if I messed up our friendship by—"

"It's not that," she hurriedly cut in. "Theo, you mean the world to me."

"Then why have you been pulling back?"

" _Because_ you mean the world to me. I want to be with you, and I'm struggling to reconcile myself with the fact that for reasons that have nothing to do with you, I can't be." She cringed, hoping that he wouldn't assume she was falling back on that tired old _it's not you, it's me_ cliché.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he knew her better than that. "Is it because of whatever it is that makes you sad all the time?"

"Muggles call it depression," she said before she even thought it through. Bitterly, she added, "Wizards call it being an attention seeker."

"What do _you_ call it?"

"On the bad days? Hell."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

A small smile tugged at Susan's lips. At the end of the day, she was the only person who could fight it. But the fact that he was willing to stand by her—and had been doing so, as well as he knew how, since the moment he realised that something was wrong—was exactly why she loved and needed him. Her hand reached up to touch the yellow pendant that was hanging around her neck. She had worn it almost every day since he had given it to her, taking comfort in the knowledge that he cared so much about her happiness.

"It's getting late," Susan said, "but if you want to come over tomorrow, I'll tell you about it. And then, if you're still interested in that date—"

"I will be," he said, seemingly understanding that what she was worried about wasn't what he wanted _now,_ but what he would want _after_.

Her smile blossomed into a full-on grin. "—then maybe we could go on that date."


End file.
